


Make me up

by simplyput



Category: Horimiya
Genre: Hori is a terrible girlfriend, Horimiya? more like Miyahara, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Miyamura deserves better, Other, Tanihara is bad with emotions, but don't worry he's trying, i have no idea what i’m doing?, no beta we die like men, no seriously i hate Hori, the start of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 14:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30090561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyput/pseuds/simplyput
Summary: "Miyamura?"Makio stayed standing, eyes burning into the back of his friend's head, only the very corner of his jaw visible. And he thought of something very suddenly, something he probably shouldn't have said. But he said it anyway, a quick quip from the tip of his tongue. The thing he had been mulling over for about a month now, just as long as he and Izumi had become friends again."Why do you hit your girlfriend?"
Relationships: Miyamura Izumi & Tanihara Makio
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Make me up

**Author's Note:**

> so, my first fic on ao3. maybe my first fic ever? i dunno, my memory is fuzzy lol. 
> 
> my friend and i on discord were ranting about Hori and we came to the mind-altering idea of a relationship between Makio and Izumi. so here's this. it's very self-indulgent, but i think that's okay. (also yes, we did come up with the ship name Miyahara. we're the pinacle of creative genius, right?) 
> 
> also i know how the summary sounds, and half of you reading this probably like Hori but i don’t care LMAOO. she’s an abusive asshole. Izumi clearly doesn’t want to hit her, mans is literally crying over it, yet she still makes him. and she hits him over things that aren’t even his fault lol. so Hori lovers don’t read this because i am going to shred your waifu
> 
> (the title is from Schoolboy by Grouplove).

In the dim light of the evening, Makio found Izumi one foot tall and hidden beside a lamp post. His right cheek was split open and below his eyes were unbelievably puffy and red. Like a stray cat, Makio led him home with a tentative hand around his wrist. And at some point, the boy had started walking beside him rather than behind him. Makio noticed how his eyelashes were still wet with tears.

He didn't know where Izumi lived, truth be told. And his throat was much too dry to even attempt to ask for directions - Izumi didn't look too much up to it either. So he took him to his own house, well, the apartment which he lived in, where he knew nobody was home. Nobody ever came back until late at night, when the last train had already gone, he had already eaten his own dinner and hidden beneath the covers in his bed. 

As he pulled Izumi up the stairs, the very faint sound of the neighbor's very small chihuahua barking from just behind the door, he twirled the key around in the palm of his hand. What was he even doing? Izumi hadn't even said a single word since he lightly kicked his shoe to get him to look up from the ground. He remembered suddenly, the day at the convenience store, where he had seen Izumi smack his girlfriend in the head. His hands started to sweat, awkwardly warm, and he prayed that Izumi couldn't feel it from the hand around his wrist. The doorknob was incredibly cold.

* * *

As Makio shut the door behind them, making sure that he wasn't shutting his friend in it (as he was still behind him), he pushed Izumi forwards and in front of him as he turned around to lock it, again. He heard a slump sound, and when he turned around, the black-haired boy had flopped to the floor, his legs beneath him, and he was sitting dogeza. 

"Miyamura?" 

Makio stayed standing, eyes burning into the back of his friend's head, only the very corner of his jaw visible. And he thought of something very suddenly, something he probably shouldn't have said. But he said it anyway, a quick quip from the tip of his tongue. The thing he had been mulling over for about a month now, just as long as he and Izumi had become friends again. 

"Why do you hit your girlfriend?"

There was silence, for just a moment, and then the quiet sound of sniffling. And this time, Izumi really slumped down, basically folding himself in half and holding onto the front of his knees. Of course, Makio had no idea what to say. He wasn't really good at knowing when to say something at the right time. He'd never been good at that. So what he said next probably only made it even worse, but he felt like he needed to say something, because Izumi had started to cry. 

"If- if it's because I did those things to you in middle school and you turned out like that, I- I'm really sorry. I just, you shouldn't hit people you love- that's not, you shouldn't do that, Miyamura, you-"

"I don't want to hit her."

Makio stilled. His fingers were gripping onto the sides of his pants, holding him steady. 

"...Huh?"

* * *

And in between that beat of silence and confusion, Izumi had started to spout and rant all of these feelings so quick, that Makio had dropped down to his knees as well and asked him to slow down. Izumi had lifted his head, the skin around his eyes even more red and inflamed than before. There was snot running from his nose, and he looked so broken, and so small, that Makio had drawn his arms forwards and brought the taller boy to his chest. 

Izumi told him everything, and for some reason, he apologized to Makio. Many, many, many times over. But he didn't need to.

* * *

A long time passed before Izumi stopped babbling. At a point, he became so quiet, and so still, that Makio wondered if he had fallen asleep. He had his hands in Izumi's hair, and Izumi was holding onto his shirt, face hidden. Makio was trying to do something, some sort of comfort, but he didn't exactly know what he was doing. He had only seen stuff like this in movies, and when they read those dumb romance novels in class. Maybe it was working. He hoped. Izumi had stopped crying. It had hurt seeing Izumi cry. His blues eyes had been turned into crystals, coated with the sheen of tears. 

"Miyamura.." Makio mumbled, shaking the boy ever so slightly. There was a hum and the reply of his own name. It was coarse and sounded scratched. Izumi's throat sounded like it was in shambles. "The cut. The cut on your cheek."

He wanted to say something about Hori. He did. He needed to tell Izumi that he shouldn't have to deal with her, that that wasn't how things were supposed to go with people who loved each other. But he was still trying to figure out a way to say it (he was bad at words, that he knew, so terribly clear). But that was for dramatic movie scenes, and he was still racking through his memories to think of something he could come up with. He didn't want Izumi to cry again.. but also, he wanted Izumi to know. Izumi needed to know that he needed to be free, that he needed to get away from Hori.

Izumi leaned back then, eyes drawn to Makio's chest. Makio looked down as well. 

"There's blood on your shirt."

"It's okay."

"Snot, too."

"Don't worry. Stand up, come here."

Makio stood up first, reaching out a hand for Izumi to grab and hoist himself up with. Makio brought him to the couch in the living room, telling him to sit and stay before disappearing into the bathroom by himself. He returned with whatever looked like could sanitize and stitch Izumi's cheek back together again. He settled himself down beside the raven-haired boy. 

And as he pieced Izumi back together again, the night dragging on even farther, Makio wondered if this is what he had wanted in middle school. To have Izumi next to him, the tips of their knees touching, on his couch. There was a funny feeling in his stomach as he watched his friend flutter his eyes closed, lips pulled back slightly and making a soft seething noise as he disinfected the cut on his cheek. ...Yeah. His stomach definitely felt weird. ...Makio could figure out those feelings another time. At the moment, Izumi had his own problems to deal with, and Makio still needed to think of something smart to say, something to reassure Izumi. There was a feeling of dread reaping upon him, pulling at the back of his shoulders. A whisper. That Izumi would go right back to standing beside Hori. No, this was not a matter of jealously. He was scared, truly, for Izumi. They were only kids. And Izumi, who spoke his mind only half of the time, had needed to save himself. But now Izumi wasn't forced to deal with it himself. Makio would be there. He would try and make up for all of the things he had done all those years ago.

And so Makio could wait for that. After all, he had caused Izumi just the same amount of grief. He wasn't worthy of being seen in such a light by that boy. Not yet. 

As he made hot tea in the tiny kitchen just right beside the living room, he returned to see that Izumi had fallen asleep. He was half stretched out, a single half-sized pillow underneath his head. Makio settled down beside his friend, curling up in the corner of the couch, holding one too many mugs in his hands. He had forgotten that he still needed to know where Izumi lived. 

But it was okay for now, he would let Izumi sleep. Because Makio would make sure that Izumi would be okay. That he knew.


End file.
